


Drunk Calls

by FuckTheGallaghers



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Drunk calls, Facials, M/M, Texting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-28
Updated: 2017-03-30
Packaged: 2018-10-12 05:18:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10482954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FuckTheGallaghers/pseuds/FuckTheGallaghers
Summary: Maybe I'll write another that goes with it, with Mickey actually calling him because that would make sense right?:P





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Maybe I'll write another that goes with it, with Mickey actually calling him because that would make sense right?  
> :P

Ian’s phone beeped a few times in his pocket, alerting him that he had a few text messages waiting for him. He made his way up the stairs, pushing his way through the door.  
  
He made his way to the kitchen, grabbing a beer out of the fridge and popping it open. He walked to the table, where Debbie was doing her homework and Carl was eating a cold poptart. Ian pulled his phone out of his pocket and looking down at the unread text message.  
  
**Mick:** _I wasn’t fucking drunk last night._  
  
Ian snorted at the message, making Debbie look up from her textbook. Ian looked at her, “Don’t worry about it.” He said, shaking his head.  
  
He finished his beer, leaving it abandoned on the table, he made his way up the stairs and to his bedroom. He sat on the bed, pushing backwards until his back connected with the wall. He sat his phone into his lap and leaned over to push the drawer open, fumbling around until his hand connected with a lighter and baggy. He pulled them out, taking a rolled joint out of the bag. He flicked the lighter, lighting up the joint and bring it to his mouth. He took a couple hits, holding the smoke in and slowly releasing it out.  
  
Carl came into the room, sitting next to Ian and knocking into him, reaching his hand towards Ian so he’d pass the joint off to him. Ian gave the joint to Carl, picking his phone and finally texting back a response.  
  
**Ian:** _Right Mick. You weren’t drunk last night. ___  
**Ian:** _That why you called me saying that you missed my fucking penis, that it was a nice fucking penis, that I should be proud of it, and you were just telling me as friend??”_  
  
Carl looked over at Ian, noticing the way his teeth were biting at his lip. “S’up with you, man?” He said, taking another hit of the joint, passing it back towards his brother. Ian ran a hand through his red hair, pushing his bangs to the side and out of his face.  
  
He looked at Carl and shook his head, “Nothing, don’t worry about it. Just mixed messages. I don’t know.”  
  
Carl looked and Ian and nudge his shoulder, “I’m like fourteen now, had a few girlfriends, might even say I'm experienced.” Ian let out a loud laugh, “Yeah okay kid. I’m sure you think you do but I got this.” He said as he pulled Carl into a headlock, rubbing his knuckles over the top of his head.  
  
Carl pushed his brother away and stood up, “Whatever.”  
  
Carl took a step towards the door intending to leave before Ian’s words stopped. “Hey, thanks though. I appreciate it.” Carl gave him a slight smile, flipping him off as he left.  
  
Ian looked down again at his phone, noticing the **no new messages** , before typing a new message to the reception.  
  
**Ian:** _Or how about how you told me_  
**Ian:** _How you wanted me to sit on your face and to tell me how pretty I was.._  
**Ian:** _Still wasn’t drunk Mick?? Like what the fuck._  
  
Ian dropped his phone on his bed. He laid on his stomach, smushing his face into his pillow before turning onto his back. He laid for a while, staring at the ceiling with his arm tucked under his head.


	2. About Last Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I did a thing..

Ian decided that if Mickey was going to ignore the conversation like it never happened, then he'll just have to confront him face to face.  
  
He walked the couple blocks it took to get to Mickey's house, pushing through the front door without bothering to knock.  
  
He noticed how empty the house was, before continuing on to Mickey's bedroom. He paused in the doorway, watching Mickey sleep, sprawled out on his bed with arm thrown over his eyes. He also took note of all the beer cans thrown around the nightstand and floor.  
  
Ian walked over the bed, running his hands up Mickey's arm to announce his presence. The arm that Mickey had thrown over his eyes shot out and grabbed Ian's arm in surprise. "What the _fuck_ Gallagher?  
  
"Figured I'd come over and talk since you kept dodging my texts, Mickey. Want to explain them to me?" Ian said, as Mickey pushed Ian’s arm away, sitting up in his bed. Mickey didn't even attempt to look at Ian. "I was drunk, don't know what you fucking want me to say." He reached towards his nightstand, grabbing the cigarette pack and notcing it was empty, he dropped the pack on the floor and stood up.  
  
Ian put his hand on Mickey's chest, preventing him from exiting the room. "You're not leaving this room until you tell me what the fucks going on."  
  
Mickey looked down at the hand on his chest and then up towards Ian’s face, raising one of his dark eyebrows. "Better remove that fucking hand before I remove it for you." Ian removed his hand but stayed in the same spot.  
  
Mickey rubbed his hands through his hair, "Jesus Christ I was _drunk_ when did that turn into a fucking crime." He attempted to make his way past Ian but was stopped.  
  
He opened his mouth, wanting to tell Ian he needed to back the fuck off again but was stopped when Ian pushed him back on his bed, straddling him. "is it so hard for you to admit you _like_ me? Fuck, maybe even want me? Want this?" Ian said, rolling his eyes. Leaning foward, so his nose was almost touching Mickey's. "Just fucking admit it Mickey. If you can say it drunk, you can say it sober."  
  
Ian noticed they way Mickey's the way Mickey's neck started to flush and the way his tongue kept darting out to run along his lips.  
  
"Get the fuck off me, Gallagher." He said, attempting to buck Ian off but only managing to push his hips against Ian's. " _Fuck_. Get off me." Mickey groaned, throwing his hands up to push Ian off

Ian pushed both of his hands back above his head.

"No. I think you made a lot of drunk promises that you should fucking keep." Ian said, staring into Mickey's dilated eyes. 

Mickey starred back at him, his eyes going from Ian's, his lips, and eventually traveling down his body. "Fuck. _Fuck_. Okay let my fucking hands go, man."  
  
As soon as Ian dropped Mickey's, squeezing them a little before fully letting go, Mickey pushed Ian a bit so he could sit up. He pulled his t-shirt up and over his head, dropping it to the floor beside him.  
  
His hands reached over to tug at Ian's blue shirt, in an attempt to pull it off. Ian pushed his hands out of the way, successfully pulling the shirt over his head and tossing it to the floor. He instantly reached forward, putting his hand behind Mickey's head, pulling him in for a heated kiss. Mickey pulled his mouth away slightly, throwing his head back against the headboard. " _Fuuuck_ Goddammit." He groaned as Ian's hips kept rocking forward. 

Ian stilled his heads and shuffled his way between Mickey's legs, moving his hands up his clothed thighs. His hands reached for the edge of the shorts, tugging them down, Mickey lifting his hips to get them off.  
  
Ian put his hands arm acrossed Mickey's waist, to control some of his movements. He licked a line up the palm of his hand, then put it around Mickey, giving a quick tug before holding his dick still and putting his mouth around him.  
  
"Oh my _fucking_ God, Ian." He groaned, moving his hand across Ian's cheek and into his tousled hair. He gripped a little too hard, pulling Ian down harder than he intented and letting his hand drop when he recieved a hard look from Ian.  
  
Ian kept his movements up, bobbling his head uo and down, licking up and around the head and moving back down.  
  
Ian could feel the way Mickey's legs started to shake, the way his fist gripped the sheets. Ian worked faster, working on bringing Mickey towards the edge.  
  
Mickey brough his hand back to Ian's hair, tugging at his hair. "I'm --- I'm _gonna_ , fuck." Ian pulled back slightly, holding his mouth open a little. Mickey looked down at Ian and let out a loud groan, realizing what Ian intended for him to do.  
  
He brough his hand over his dick and gave it a few hard tugs before he felt himself finish, watching as the white streaks hit Ian across his mouth and face.  
  
"Damn, Gallagher. Think I need to work you up more often." Mickey said, watching Ian work a towel over his messy face.


End file.
